Pure Gold
by WillowDryad
Summary: "Once, when Nick was sixteen years old, he got trapped in a mine shaft. I was up in San Francisco studying law. I woke up in the middle of the night and I started riding, and I didn't stop riding until I got home. Nobody had to tell me my brother was in trouble. I just knew it." Jarrod Barkley (Night of the Wolf)
1. Part One

**PURE GOLD**

Disclaimer: Jarrod and Nick Barkley and all of the characters and situations in _The Big Valley _are the property of their copyright holders and are, sadly, not mine. I'm only borrowing them.

"_**Once, when Nick was sixteen years old, he got trapped in a mine shaft. I was up in San Francisco studying law. I woke up in the middle of the night and I started riding, and I didn't stop riding until I got home. Nobody had to tell me my brother was in trouble. I just knew it."**_

**Jarrod Barkley (**_**Night of the Wolf**_**)**

**PART ONE**

"Slow down there, boy."

Nick grinned at his father and put another piece of steak on his plate next to a good-sized mountain of scrambled eggs. "Empty sack won't stand, isn't that what you always say?"

"And one that's stuffed too full is likely to have the bottom bust out of it." Father looked over at Mother, a twinkle in his sky-blue eyes. "What are we going to do with this boy of ours, Victoria?"

"That one's yours," Mother said, taking a calm sip of her tea. "Jarrod is mine."

Nick laughed, remembering how she had told Father that Jarrod was his the last time Jarrod was in trouble.

Audra turned her big blue eyes up to her mother. "But whose am I?"

"Daddy's girl," Father said immediately, and Audra beamed at him.

She was six now. Nick hated to think how she'd have him completely wrapped around her finger by the time she reached the ripe old age of ten.

"Mother's little lady," Mother said, smoothing the blue satin bow in Audra's blonde curls.

"Squirt," Nick muttered out of the side of his very full mouth.

Audra wrinkled her nose at him. "Jarrod thinks I'm a lady. He told me so."

"Yeah," Nick said around a hefty bite of steak, "well, I think you're a squirt. Jarrod's gone all the time anyway. How would he know?"

"He'll be back on Friday, so you can just ask him."

With that and a flounce of her pint-sized shoulder, Audra went back to her breakfast.

Nick kept on eating, washing down his steak and eggs with another glass of cold milk.

"What's your hurry, son?" Father asked.

"Jarrod's coming home in four days. I've got to make sure his Christmas present is ready by then." Nick buttered another biscuit and added it to the pile on his plate. "Got work to do."

Father shook his head. "You know, it's hard enough to keep those long legs in long pants as it is, boy, without you making it worse."

"I'm planning on being taller than Jarrod someday. You just wait."

"Well, you won't be," Audra said. "Jarrod's the oldest and he's going to be a lawyer. He'll always be the tallest."

"And you'll always be a squirt. You don't eat hardly enough to keep a bird alive."

"That's because I'm a lady and you're not."

Nick guffawed. "Got that right."

"Nicholas," Mother said.

She didn't have to say anything else. He knew what she wanted. Lower your voice. Don't tease your sister. Don't talk with your mouth full. Well, he didn't mind. Not today. Today he was just about sure he'd have everything ready, and it would be the best present Jarrod ever had. And then maybe he wouldn't have to stay at that stupid school for months at a time and miss everything fun here at home. Nick didn't care if he was just sixteen, he knew he wasn't ever going away. He wouldn't leave the ranch even if he was twenty. Even if he was thirty!

His plate was clean before Mother had finished her tea, before Audra had picked through that piddling little bit of food she had taken, even before Father had emptied his coffee cup.

Nick put his napkin on the table. "May I please be excused?"

"Really, Nicholas," Mother said. "Everyone else is still eating."

"But I have stuff to do. Important stuff."

"Like fixing that corral fence we talked about yesterday?" Father asked.

"Did that already this morning," Nick told him. "And I mended Coco's bridle and put on his new shoe and cleaned out the tack room."

"Well, I guess I can't complain then. You go see to whatever it is you have to do."

"I'll be back for dinner." Nick gave his mother a quick peck on the cheek. "Uh, Mother?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Can I take some of that pie we had yesterday with me for lunch?"

Mother looked at him dubiously. "Is there any pie left? Or did you eat it all in the middle of the night?"

"Oh, no, Mother." Nick looked at her with perfect innocence. "I didn't have any pie in the middle of the night." He grinned. "I think Silas must've hidden it from me."

Father chuckled. "There's a reason we let Silas run the kitchen."

Mother merely shook her head. "You may tell Silas to pack you a piece of pie, but only if he puts in something a little more substantial for you, too."

"Oh, he will. I've got some hard work ahead of me today. I can't just keel over in the middle of it."

Mother put one hand on his cheek, and he thought for a minute she might hug him or something. "Don't be too long, dear."

"And don't be so dirty when you come home this time either," Audra said primly.

Nick scowled at her. "Oh, go take another bath or something."

"Nicholas."

Before Mother could say anything more, Nick sprinted out of the room. "Silas? Hey, Silas!"

"Nicholas!" Mother scolded, but he was already gone.

OOOOO

Nick unsaddled Coco and staked him where he had plenty of grass and water. Then he dumped out the tools he'd brought with him, and taking the lantern and the best pick axe with him, he wriggled under the boards covering the old mine shaft. Somebody had painted "KEEP OUT" on one of them when it was closed down, but now those letters had faded into the weathered wood, hardly visible anymore. This had been one of Father's mines. They had called it Barkley Suerte, Barkley Luck, and it had yielded some rich ore, but it hadn't lasted very long.

He and Jarrod had sometimes heard the mining engineers discussing it with Father, telling him there was nothing left in it even though they'd been surprised at how quickly it had played out, saying they had been sure there was more gold to be found but still unable to find any evidence of it. For years now, he and Jarrod had come here, determined to find what the others hadn't been able to, determined to make Father proud of them. Then Jarrod had decided to go away to law school, and he didn't have time to look for gold anymore. He didn't have time for anything anymore.

Nick hadn't told anyone what he had found a week ago. He'd been feeling out of sorts, like nothing was quite right, and he'd ended up out here, poking around in the old mine, being mad at Jarrod for not being there, too. He'd taken the pick axe he'd brought and swung it with everything he had. All right, maybe he'd hit one of the timbers a few times instead of the rock wall, but eventually he'd made a good sized hole. After a while, he saw that sparkle, just that bright little vein that he'd been searching for all these years.

"There it is," he'd whispered, eyes wide and heart racing. "It's here, Jarrod. It's really here."

Every day since then, he'd rushed through his chores and then come back to the Suerte, finding more and more of the ore. It wasn't a lot yet, but he'd filled a little bag with it. Enough to prove that he'd actually found something, that he'd found the lost vein of gold. Father and Mother would be so proud, and Jarrod, well Jarrod would be rich with his half of the gold, and then he could stay home and not go back to that stupid law school. Half a gold mine was a pretty good Christmas present, even if Nick did say so himself.

It was well past lunchtime when he swung the pick axe as hard as he could and let it stick in that old timber next to the vein. What he had was enough for now, and Jarrod would have to do some of the work after all. This was going to be a working mine, and he and his brother were going to be equal partners. That was only fair. But, oh, Nick was going to have the best time when Jarrod opened his present Christmas morning and found it full of gold.

He picked up the lantern, holding it close to the gold that ran through the crevices in the rock. He and Jarrod were rich now. Rich all by themselves. Maybe richer than Father. It was an intoxicating notion, and he thought maybe he'd better go out and have some pie and tell Coco all about it. He put all the ore from today into his bag, all except one piece, the prettiest one, he thought. He held that one in his hand. He wanted to see it out in the sunlight.

He tugged at the pick axe with his free hand, meaning to carry it out with him, but now it wouldn't budge. Maybe he'd been a little bit too excited when he made that last swing. He set down the lantern and his bag and put the one nugget on top of it. Then he tried once more to free the pick axe. One handed, two handed, it didn't seem to matter. As hard as he pulled, he could only make the wood creak and make a little dirt fall from the cross timber overhead. Finally he had enough. Bracing his boots against the upright, he pulled with both hands and all his might. With a groan of surrender, the old wood split, landing him on his backside and showering him with rocks and dust, but with the pick axe finally in his hand, he only laughed.

He laughter stopped when the rumble of dust and rocks didn't. The cross timber swung dizzily down from where the upright had long supported it. Realizing the whole shaft was about to come down, he scrambled to his feet, snatched up the lantern, tucked the bag into his belt, and clutched the prized nugget in his fist. He made it only another foot or two before it all crashed down on him.

OOOOO

Jarrod gasped and sat up, blinking as he looked around. The lamp had burned through all of its oil and was as cold and dark as the rest of the room. No, he was still here at school, still in his room, still with exams coming for the next two days. He rubbed his eyes and then rubbed the sting along his cheekbone, knowing there must be long red mark there. Served him right for falling asleep on top of his paper and pencil.

He picked up the paper, struggling to read it in the dim firelight, and then moved closer to the hearth, squinting at his notes. _The parties have to be competent to enter into this agreement and they have to have entered into it voluntarily. These agreements_ (his writing started to wobble a bit here) _can be oral, but naturally there _inforcability increses_ if are written. If the _agremnt_ oral, is is _stil enfo rce_ b _l e_-  
_

The end of that last "e" trailed halfway down the page, eventually running off it. With a groan of frustration, he wadded up the useless paper and tossed onto the grate, and it died in a little burst of flame. Fair enough. He'd get some coffee and start that chapter over. He still had time to go over everything before the first test.

He sat down again and picked up the fallen book from the floor. 564 pages, and he couldn't for the life of him remember which one he'd been on. How was he ever going to be a lawyer if he couldn't keep his mind on his work?

He ran both hands through his hair and squeezed his eyes shut. He had to concentrate. Just two more days and then he could head home. What had made him wake up anyway? Something picked at the edges of his mind and pricked the back of his heart. What had he been dreaming?

Dark, he knew that part. Cold. Yes, certainly. Just a nightmare, nothing else. He couldn't even remember it, except it wasn't right. It was cold and dark and suffocating. He drew another gasping breath just remembering it. That's what had awoken him. Trapped. Alone. Dark. Not getting out. Not getting out.

"Get ahold of yourself," he muttered, forcing himself to stay in his chair, forcing himself to open that book. He looked in the table of contents. _Contract Law_. That's what he had been working on. Page 416. He tried to turn to it, but he couldn't get the pages to cooperate, couldn't get his fingers to stop trembling. What was wrong?

He wanted to go home. No, he needed to go home. There was something not right there. He knew it. He could feel it. Mother and Father? They could take care of anything, couldn't they? He smiled faintly. Little Audra couldn't be in any trouble. Nick?

He felt that cold, dark, suffocating terror sweep over him. Nick. Stupid, headstrong, impulsive Nick. It was always a surprise when Nick _wasn't _in trouble. But, no, this wasn't just a scrape. It was more than that. Much more. He could feel it.

Jarrod was wide awake now. He opened the armoire in the corner and got his hat and his heavy coat. Then he rummaged in the drawer in the bottom and got the gun belt stashed away there. He put on the hat and coat and strapped the gun around his hips and then strode down the hallway to the stairs. One of the doors he hadn't gone by yet popped open and Thad Hendricks stuck his head out.

"A little less noise, all right, Barkley? Some of us are trying to study."

Jarrod only glared at him and didn't slow.

"Jarrod?" Thad grabbed his arm as he passed. "Everything okay?"

Jarrod started at the touch that stopped him dead in his tracks and forced the dread again through his veins. "I don't know. I—" He wiped his face with one hand. "Do me a favor, Thad, and tell the dean I had to leave. I had to go home."

"But we have exams in the morning. You'll flunk all your classes if you skip the exams."

"Then I'll flunk. I can't worry about that now. I gotta go home."

"What's wrong?" Thad asked, still grasping his arm. "Somebody sick?"

"I tell you, I don't know."

He wrenched himself free and started back down the hall. He almost fell down the stairs. By the time he reached the front door, his stride had quickened into a lope. Before he reached the stables, he was running. He gave the flummoxed stableboy five dollars to hurry, and soon he was on the road.

It was over sixty miles to Stockton, and he switched horses at every opportunity, overpaying the livery owners for their speed in accommodating him. He just hoped his money would hold out until he got home. He hoped _he_ would hold out. Those feelings of dread, of cold and dark and suffocating confinement, had added a new friend, pain, and they all galloped alongside him, closer and closer as he neared home, closer than his faint shadow in the cold December moonlight.

_Nick, what's happened to you? _

_OOOOO_

It was just dawn when the house came into sight. It looked completely normal. Calm. Peaceful. But it was wrong. It was so wrong. The whole ranch ought to be waking up just about now. Father ought to be sitting on the porch with his before-breakfast coffee, watching the sunrise like he liked to do. The ranch hands ought to be stirring. Sure, Mother and Audra would still be asleep yet, but—

"Mother."

She came out onto the porch wearing a dress more suitable for dinner than for breakfast. Her silver-streaked hair was put up the way it usually was, but it didn't look the same. It didn't look as if it had been done just this morning. She'd been up all night.

She looked up at the sound of his horse, sudden hope in her eyes at the sight of him. "Jarrod! Oh, Jarrod!"

He galloped his horse to the porch and flung himself off of it, grabbing her arms. "What's wrong? What happened to Nick?"

"How did you—?"

"It doesn't matter. Tell me what happened. Where's Nick? Where's everybody?"

"Oh, Jarrod." Her lips trembled and then she pressed them together and lifted her chin. "Yesterday morning, he left right after breakfast, saying he had important work to do. We haven't seen him since. Your father and the men have been searching all night."

"Work? What work? Where'd he go?"

She shook her head, tears pooling in her gray eyes. "I don't know. He said it was a present he had to get ready before you came home. A Christmas present."

"For me?" Something stabbed and twisted inside him. Cold. Dark. Suffocation. Pain. "What kind of present? What did he say?"

"I don't know. He wouldn't tell us."

"He came home dirty every day," an uncertain little voice said.

Jarrod saw his little sister peeping out of the front door, looking at Mother as if she were going to be scolded for coming downstairs in her nightgown. He ran to her.

"Dirty?" He knelt down, taking her small hands. "Dirty like when he's pushing cattle or grooming horses? Is that what you mean, honey?"

She shook her blonde curls. "Dirtier. Like he'd had dirt dumped on him or something. Like he'd been digging in it or—"

Digging. He leapt to his feet and grabbed his mother by the shoulders. "Are any of the hands still here?"

Mother nodded, bewildered. "A few."

"You send one of them out to find Father and the men. Tell them I'm going out to the Suerte to get Nick."

"The Suerte? Jarrod—"

"Just tell them. There's no time."

He leapt back on his horse and kicked it into a gallop. "Stupid, headstrong, impulsive Nick," he muttered. He had told Nick not to mess with that mine by himself.

"But what about the gold?" Nick had demanded. "It's our gold, since everybody else has abandoned it. Don't you want to be partners with me?"

"Yeah, sure," Jarrod had said. "We're partners. As soon as I get a chance, I promise we'll come out and find that gold."

That had been right before he had first left for law school. Now he was in the middle of his second year. He hadn't been back to the Suerte once since then.

"What have you done, little brother?" he breathed as the sun rose behind him. "You shouldn't have gone in there without me."

After what felt like an eternity, he reached the entrance to the mine. There was Coco staked out beside it, looking glad to finally see someone coming to get him. Jarrod wrapped his rented horse's reins around a nearby tree branch and ran to the mine entrance. An armload of tools had been dumped there along with Nick's saddlebags. Jarrod grabbed a pick and a shovel and twisted himself under the bottom board blocking the opening.

There was no light, nothing beyond the few slanted rays of sunrise that made their way past the boards. He had to have some way to see. He turned and used the pick axe to bust the boards into long pieces, and then he picked the likeliest one and set the end on fire. The old wood was dry as dust, and it went up like the match he had used to light it. This was better, but he knew even this little bit of light wouldn't last long. He grabbed the pick and shovel and several more of the boards and carried them deeper into the mine.

"Nick? Nick! Can you hear me? Are you in here, boy? Nick!"

All that answered was the thud of his running footsteps and the echo of his own voice. Nothing here looked any different than it had the last time he and Nick had come. Where could Nick be? Had he guessed wrong? No, he must be here. His horse, his saddlebags, his tools were all proof. Where could he be?

"Nick!" Jarrod shouted and then he lurched to a stop. There was no more tunnel, only a pile of rock and rotten timbers.

"No," he breathed. "No, no, Nick. No."

He dropped his tools and the bits of wood he'd brought with him. Then he stuck his makeshift torch in between a couple of rocks, barely able to see by its wan light. He didn't care. It didn't matter. Nick was there in the cold, in the dark, trapped, suffocating. Dead.

"No," he growled, throwing off his hat and coat and picking up the pick axe. "No. No, you won't do that to me, Nick. You won't. I won't let you be dead."

He swung the pick with every word, breaking through dirt and rock and wood until he could finally use the shovel to hurl pieces out of the way. He didn't know how bad the cave in had been, how far back it went, how deep Nick—

"You just hang on, little brother."

He swung the pick again, harder and faster, and then switched to the shovel once more, pitching dirt and rock behind him until the light faded almost to nothing. He pulled out another piece of dry wood from the pile and lit it from the first and then wedged between the rocks as he had the other one. Then he dashed the sweat out of his eyes, looking at the work he had done already. In the brighter light, he could see over the top of the rockfall and into the blackness of an open space. Maybe it wasn't as bad a collapse as he thought, not the whole shaft but just a piece of it.

"Nick!" he yelled as loud as he could. "Nick, are you there?"

Silence. Silence. Dead silence.

He started with the pick axe again, this time every blow a prayer. _Please. Please, God. Please._

Once more, he shoveled out the debris, throwing it behind him, forcing his arms and shoulders to keep on, to go faster, to dig deeper, to not give up, to—

A hat. A mangled, dirt-filled hat slid down with a shower of pebbles and a choking cloud of dust.

Nick's hat.

Jarrod threw the shovel aside. He had to use his hands now. He couldn't risk hitting his brother with the axe or the shovel. Nick had to be here, right here, right within reach.

He pulled out more pieces of rock, shoved aside more dirt, finally he felt rough wood, heavy, wedged diagonally across the shaft. Under it, under the end that rested on the floor, he saw a clenched fist and an outstretched arm with a dark head resting on it.

"Nick," he sobbed, scrabbling through the remaining debris until he could reach that arm, until he could press that wrist with his torn fingers and feel for a pulse.

It was there. He laughed low in his throat as he worked his way closer to the rest of his brother. The pulse was weak, but it was there. Hardheaded Nick, he was too stubborn to let a little old cave in bother him.

"Nick," Jarrod said, patting his arm, trying to rouse him. "Come on, boy. Time to go home."

It took longer than he wanted, and Nick never stirred, but Jarrod finally managed to grab the shoulders of his shirt and pull him forward far enough to get hold of him under the arms. Then, hoping the rest of him wasn't pinned under something, Jarrod pulled. It took him three or four tries, but finally Nick budged. Jarrod dragged him out from under the timber that had saved his life.

"Nick." Jarrod dropped panting next to his brother and patted his slack face. "Nick?"

Jarrod pressed one hand to Nick's throat. The pulse was stronger there. Why didn't he wake up? He needed the air. The air and the sun and the sound of outside. That's what Nick needed now, not more of the cold and the dark.

Jarrod would have to carry him out. He scrambled to his feet and grabbed the rest of the wood pieces he had brought with him. He lit one from the one still burning and started toward the mine entrance. When he couldn't see the first one anymore, he lit another and propped the second one against the wall. He repeated the process until he could see the light of the opening. Then he ran back to where he had left his brother.

Nick was stirring then, moaning and struggling to sit up, still with his left hand clenched.

"You just keep still." Jarrod fell to his knees beside him. "Tell me where you hurt."

"Mmmm, head. Back." Nick winced. "Ankle. Ankle's the worst."

Jarrod could tell that right ankle wasn't twisted the normal way. He'd have to let the doctor take care of that.

"All right," he said. "I'm going to get you out of here before I knock you into next week."

Nick gave him a halfway grin that turned into a groan as Jarrod picked him up. Jarrod walked as fast as he could down the dimly lit shaft until he was finally able to lay Nick on the grass outside. Nick just lay there, eyes closed, face turned up to the sun, until Jarrod held a canteen to his dusty lips.

"Coco," Nick said once he'd had his fill, trying to turn towards his horse, but Jarrod put one arm under his shoulders, cradling his head, keeping him where he was.

"Coco's fine. You left him with good grass and water."

Nick nodded and then managed to open one eye. "Now you gonna knock me into next week?"

"Maybe next week," Jarrod said, ruffling his hair.

"Don't tell Father."

Jarrod took a deep drink from the canteen himself and then wiped his mouth with his dirty sleeve. "Father's headed here right now, Nick. Either way, how could we not tell him?"

Nick wriggled a little closer. "We could tell him I got thrown."

Jarrod couldn't help laughing at that. "You know it doesn't do any good to tell Father anything but the absolute truth. He always finds out anyway."

"Yeah, but— "

"He and the men ought to be here before long, Nick. He's going to want to know what happened."

"I know."

Nick was silent for a while.

"Why don't you tell me what happened," Jarrod said gently. "Maybe I can explain it to him in a way that will go down better."

"I guess there ought to be some good reason we sent you to that law school." Nick peeked out of one eye again. "Not that you weren't already a slick talker way before then."

"Ahem. Did you or did you not want me to be the one to tell Father what happened?"

Nick chuckled and then groaned.

Jarrod tightened his hold on him. "It's all right, boy."

Nick steadied himself with a few deep breaths and then finally opened both eyes, a spark of excitement in their hazel depths. "I found it, Jarrod. I really did."

"Found what?"

Nick finally unclenched his left hand, showing the piece of ore he had been clinging to. "I found it for us, Jarrod. We're partners, and now we're rich. And now you don't have to stay at that stupid school and then work as a lawyer. You can stay at the ranch all the time. Won't that be great?"

Jarrod took the ore from him, examining it in the light. "Nick—"

"It's all right, Jarrod. You take that one. That one's yours. There's a whole bag back in there somewhere. I was going to give it to you for Christmas, but it doesn't matter, because the real present is the whole mine." Nick's eyes shone. "Merry Christmas, big brother."

Jarrod closed his hand, clutching the ore as his brother had done. "Nick, I— You don't—"

Nick sighed, his hazel eyes closing again, and Jarrod wrapped both arms around him. "Merry Christmas, little brother."

He was wondering if he should try to get Nick home by himself, when he heard the thunder of hooves and then saw his father and the ranch hands riding toward the mine.

Father threw his reins to the man closest to him and jumped to the ground to kneel beside his sons. "Jarrod, is he all right? Is he alive?"

Jarrod nodded and saw the panic in his father's eyes ease into worry. "He's just passed out. I think his ankle's broken and I'm sure he hurts all over, but he was talking to me just a minute ago. I think he'll be all right, but we ought to get him home."

Father cupped Nick's scraped cheek in one big hand, shaking his head over him, and then he stood up. "Staples, you ride into town and get the doctor out to the house. The rest of you men, get on back to the ranch. Twenty dollar gold piece to the first one of you who lets Mrs. Barkley know everything's all right."

With a whoop, the men spurred their horses and were gone.

Father knelt again and put his arms under Nick's shoulders and knees. "I'll put him in the saddle in front of me."

Jarrod bit his lip and didn't loosen his hold. It was too soon yet. When they got home, there'd be the doctor and Mother and Audra and Father still, of course. He wasn't quite ready to let go.

"May I do it, Father?"

"You look worn out, son. And I can see you could use a little tending to yourself."

"Not yet," Jarrod said, holding on a little tighter.

"All right, but let me help you."

Between the two of them, they got Nick up into the saddle of Jarrod's rented horse, and then Jarrod got on behind. Father got into his own saddle, leading Coco, and they made the slow trip back to the ranch. Somebody would have to come back to pick up the tools and Nick's saddle and board up the mine again so some fool kid wouldn't get himself nearly killed in it.

Jarrod didn't say anything. He was too tired to think about what he ought to say. There would be time enough for explanations at home. Father seemed to understand. He merely rode at Jarrod's side, maybe a little bit behind so he could make sure his boys didn't need any help.

Finally, with Nick settled against his shoulder, Jarrod decided he ought to at least say something. "Father, I know we weren't supposed to," he said softly, "but Nick and I have been digging in that old mine for a long time. He— We thought maybe there was still some gold in there. I guess this is what he was so excited about."

Jarrod handed his father the chunk of ore Nick had given him.

Father studied it a moment and then shook his head. "Son, this is nothing but iron pyrite. Fool's gold."

Jarrod took it back from him, poking it securely into his grimy shirt pocket.

"I know, but I was awful glad when he gave it to me." He held Nick a little closer. "It's the best Christmas present ever."

**Author's Note: This is my first try at Big Valley Fan Fiction. It's quite a departure from what I usually write, but some plot bunnies cannot be beaten back. I hope you Nick and Jarrod fans like it. I'd love to know what you think.**

**To my Narnia readers: I haven't abandoned my unfinished story or you. Stay tuned.**


	2. Part Two

**PURE GOLD**

Disclaimer: Jarrod and Nick Barkley and all of the characters and situations in _The Big Valley _are the property of their copyright holders and are, sadly, not mine. I'm only borrowing them.

**PART TWO**

All that long ride home, Nick didn't stir. He was so still that Father made Jarrod stop twice along the way just so he could press his hand to his younger son's forehead or pat his bruised cheek. Still Nick didn't wake. He only sat slumped against Jarrod's shoulder, his lanky legs hanging limp on either side of the horse.

Jarrod struggled to keep him in the saddle, struggled to keep himself from falling off, struggled to keep Father from noticing he was struggling. Last night, he had ridden straight through from San Francisco, never stopping until he got home and, after that, riding straight out to the Barkley Suerte to find Nick. He hadn't stopped then either, not until he had pick axed and shoveled his way to where Nick was buried and pulled him out of the mine. Now whatever had kept him going, anxiousness or urgency or just plain fear, was gone. The force that had kept his nerves wired and surging was gone. There was nothing left. Nothing but the need to get home and make sure Nick was all right.

Jarrod caught a hard breath when the house finally came in sight and blinked back the sudden burning behind his eyes.

"All right, son?" Father asked, pulling his horse closer to Jarrod's.

"Yes, sir. I guess I still have a little dust in my eyes from digging out that mine."

Father didn't say anything to that. He just nodded toward the house. "There's your mother."

Mother was standing on the porch looking out toward the hills just as Jarrod had seen her at dawn that morning, still in her evening dress from last night, watching, waiting. Father urged his horse to go on and Jarrod followed suit, until they got to her.

"Nick!" She ran to Jarrod's side and grabbed her younger son's bruised hand. "Nick, darling."

Finally Nick stirred a little. "'lo, Mother." He managed a faint smile, seeing the tears in her gray eyes. "'m all right," he said, and then he went limp again.

Mother looked worriedly at Jarrod, but by then, Father had already leapt down from his horse and was lifting Nick out of the saddle.

"Bring him in," she said, hurrying inside ahead of them. "His bed's ready."

"I sent Staples for the doctor. He ought to be . . . "

Then they were gone, and Jarrod could no longer hear his father's voice.

He closed his eyes, his body shaking, suddenly to weary to move. Maybe he fell asleep right there, because the next thing he knew, someone was calling him.

"Mister Jarrod? Mister Jarrod."

His eyes flew open. One of the hands was standing there beside him, holding father's horse's reins and Coco's.

"I was wondering if you wanted me to see to your horse, Mister Jarrod."

"Uh, yeah."

The man looked expectantly at him when he didn't dismount.

"Oh."

Jarrod slid off his horse's back and stumbled when he hit the ground.

The cowboy grabbed his arm to steady him. "Can I help you, Mister Jarrod?"

"No. I'm all right. Thanks."

"Yes, sir."

Jarrod stood there blinking as the man led the horses away, and then he turned and trudged up the front steps. Food. Bath. Sleep. He didn't know which he needed more, but he told himself he'd worry about that once he managed to make it inside. He needed to make sure Nick was all right. He needed to—

"Jarrod?"

A small, soft hand slipped into his, and he smiled down at his little sister. She had changed from her nightgown into a sunny-colored cotton dress.

"Hello, honey."

She studied him with her big blue eyes. "You're very dirty."

He laughed wearily. "Sorry about that."

"You need to take a bath, but I don't mind." She looked him up and down again. "Not too much."

"That's mighty gracious of you, Miss Barkley."

She led him inside, led him to the bottom of the wide stairway. For a moment, he stood there looking up. There had never seemed to be so many steps before. Finally, he sank down onto the lowest one.

"Are you tired, Jarrod?"

"A little bit, honey."

"Wait a minute," she told him. "Don't get up."

"All right," he said, thinking he might not be able even if he had wanted to.

She disappeared toward the kitchen and then came back a minute later with one of her dainty handkerchiefs soaked in cold water. She patted his grimy face with it.

"Is that better?"

"Much better. Thank you. Now I think I can get upstairs and see how Nick is."

"Oh, they won't let you come in," Audra said with disdain. "They said we have to stay down here until the doctor comes and looks at him and says if we can visit him."

"Well, I'll tell you a little secret, honey. He's going to be all right. I was afraid for a while that he might not be, but he is. So we don't need to worry."

"But how come he wasn't awake when Father brought him in?"

"He's hurt. Just a little bit." Jarrod wanted to pull her comfortingly close, but he was afraid she might object to that while he was in his present unwashed state. He contented himself with just holding her hand. "Remember that old mine Nick's been talking about?"

She nodded.

"He shouldn't have gone in there by himself. He ended up getting trapped and had to be dug out."

She ducked her head against him, dirt and all. "Oh, Jarrod."

He hugged his arms around her. "Don't worry, honey. He probably broke his ankle, but I think the rest of him is all right. He'll just have to stay in bed for a while."

She sighed heavily. "He won't like that."

"No," Jarrod said, chuckling. "He won't like that at all."

Audra studied him for a long moment more. "How'd you know?" she asked at last.

He let out a slow breath, knowing he'd better get up while he still could. "How'd I know what?"

"How'd you know where he was?"

"It was you, honey." He tapped her turned-up nose, leaving a grimy smudge. "You told me he looked like he'd been digging in the dirt all the times he's been gone, and I figured it had to be from working the mine."

"But how'd you know to come home in the first place?"

He shook his head. "Now, that I don't know. I just knew Nick was in trouble."

"But Nick's always in trouble."

Jarrod grinned. _Out of the mouths of babes_. "This time was different. He needed me."

He looked up again at the mountain of steps above him, and then, with the aid of the banister, he hauled himself to his feet.

"I'll help you."

Audra led him up the stairs. It didn't actually help, but it did make him feel better.

"I'm fine now," he told her once they reached the top.

She glanced toward the murmur of voices coming from Nick's open door. "I'm supposed to stay in the parlor until Mother calls me," she whispered, and then she crooked her finger to get Jarrod to lean down to her. "I think you were very brave."

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and then scampered down the stairs.

He touched his fingers to where her lips had been and smiled to realize it was probably the cleanest place on his face.

Feeling more awake now, he went to stand in Nick's door. Mother was using a wet cloth to wash Nick's face and hands. Father was at the end of the bed cutting the boot off Nick's right foot. The left boot was already on the floor.

"Jarrod," Mother said when she saw him there. "We thought you'd come up right after us."

"Sorry, Mother. Uh, the horses had to be seen to." He didn't say who had seen to them.

She came to him, putting one hand to his cheek, her gray eyes warm. "You need to have something to eat, darling. You haven't since last night, have you."

He shook his head.

"I told Silas to bring something up for you. And you need a bath."

He smiled a little. "That's what Audra said." He looked over at Nick, the smile fading. "How is he?"

She went back to her younger son, wiping his still face again. "He hasn't moved. Not since he first got here."

"He'll be all right, Victoria," Father said, stopping what he was doing and shaking his head as he looked down at Nick. "I thought I told you boys to stay clear of that mine."

Jarrod looked down at his dirty boots. "Yes, sir."

"You should have made sure he stayed out of it."

"I'm sorry, sir."

Jarrod didn't look up. He didn't want to see in his father's eyes the ice and fire that was in his voice. It _was_ his fault. He'd been too busy for anything but school. Too busy for Nick.

A strong hand squeezed his shoulder, and he lifted his head. The ice and fire weren't there.

"I'm sorry, son. I've just about worried myself into a frenzy since last night. I know it's not your fault. This brother of yours—" Father shook his head. "I just wish he'd think things out sometimes. I mean, _before_ he does them."

"I'm afraid that's just Nick, Father." Jarrod looked at his little brother sprawled there in the bed, all long limbs like a new colt, his face looking impossibly young as he slept. "He's always been one to dig in with both hands and jump in with both feet, but he doesn't mean any harm. He just does what he feels." He moved over to his mother's side so he could push his little brother's damp hair off his forehead. "He's just Nick."

Father huffed, and Jarrod looked up at him again.

"Please don't be angry with him."

Father's expression softened. "I can hardly manage that on a good day, much less now."

"He's going to be mad about not finding real gold," Jarrod said wistfully. "He really wanted to."

"Oh," Mother breathed, pressing a sympathetic kiss to Nick's forehead.

"What I want to know," Father said, "is why you're home three days early. How did you do on your examinations? Didn't you just have them?"

Jarrod bit his lip. "I'm afraid they started this morning." Tired as he was, he straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. "I guess I'll flunk all of my classes."

"That's a whole semester's work for nothing, son."

"I didn't have much choice, sir. I couldn't stay." Jarrod looked at Nick. "Not when I needed to come home."

Father squeezed his shoulder again. "I'll write to the dean about it. It could be they'd let you take the tests after Christmas, in light of what's happened."

"Thanks, Father."

Silas came into the room and set a tray on the little table by the window, a light in his dark eyes and a smile creasing his lined brown cheeks. "Welcome home, Mister Jarrod. Mighty good to see you."

"Thank you, Silas. Good to see you, too."

"Scrambled eggs and hot biscuits, just like you like." Silas pulled a chair up to the table. "And a big glass of cold milk, fresh from the ice box."

Jarrod went over and sat down and then stared at the tray.

"Anything wrong, Mister Jarrod?"

Jarrod shook his head. "It looks fine, Silas. Just fine. Thank you."

Silas looked over at Mother, and she gave him an understanding smile. "Thank you, Silas. Will you please make sure Miss Audra has something to eat, too?"

"Oh, she already had two pieces of cake, ma'am. I told her maybe she ought to see if that was all right with you, but she said she wasn't to come up till you told her, so she couldn't rightly ask."

Mother pursed her lips, and Jarrod knew it was to keep herself from smiling.

"Thank you, Silas," she said. "That will be all."

"Ma'am."

She turned back to Nick when Silas was gone, holding her hand to his cheek, her eyes on his face as Father still struggled to get his boot loose. Even unconscious, Nick winced and gave a soft little cry when it finally came off. Jarrod stopped with a biscuit halfway to his mouth, watching him, but Nick quieted when Mother patted his face until, leaning into her hand, he was still again."

"I'm sorry, boy," Father said, his eyes full of pity and remorse as he cut Nick's pant leg up to the knee and then cut off his sock.

Nick's ankle was mottled with bruises and horribly swollen, and Mother immediately came to look at it.

"We need to pack it in ice."

"I'll get some," Jarrod said, putting the biscuit back on his plate.

"You need to eat," she told him firmly, and then she looked at Father.

Father nodded. "I'll be right back."

Jarrod ate a bite of scrambled egg, too tired to taste it, and then scooped up another. Nick was going to have to know about the mine. About the gold. He'd been so excited about it, too. Jarrod didn't want to have to tell him. Father would do it, he knew, but it wasn't Father's place. Father wasn't the one Nick had wanted to find the gold for. Father wasn't the one who needed Nick to understand. About a lot of things.

"Jarrod. Jarrod?"

He blinked, realizing Mother was standing in front of him. He was holding his fork to his mouth, but the egg had fallen back into his plate.

"You need to go to sleep, Jarrod," she said, taking the fork from him and pulling him to his feet. "Father and I will take care of your brother."

"But the doctor—"

"We'll let you know what the doctor says. Now, come on."

He looked over at Nick, still out cold, and then he turned back to his mother. "Will you wake me up if he needs me?"

She cupped his face in both hands and smiled tenderly into his eyes. "I promise. Now come on."

Taking his hand as Audra had done, she led him to his bed, took off his gun belt and made him lie down. He objected when she started to pull off his boots, but she shushed him and did it anyway. The last thing he remembered was her tucking a quilt over him and then touching her lips to his cheek.

**Author's Note: I meant for Part One to be Part Only, but Jarrod and Nick had other ideas. They refused to shut up until I told more of the story. They also say there's more to come, and next time it's Nick's turn. I'd love to know what you think. **


	3. Part Three

**PURE GOLD**

Disclaimer: Jarrod and Nick Barkley and all of the characters and situations in _The Big Valley _are the property of their copyright holders and are, sadly, not mine. I'm only borrowing them.

**PART THREE**

One side of Nick's mouth curved into a smile at the sound that crept into his consciousness, a sound he'd been familiar with since he was a baby, the soft, low hum of one of the sweet old spirituals Silas had brought with him from the South. Silas called them his working songs, but Nick knew the songs of freedom and redemption had a deeper meaning. For Nick, besides everything that was in the words, they meant home.

He was sorry when the humming stopped, but he didn't mind when he finally opened his eyes to see Silas smiling over at him from the chair next to his bed.

"Welcome home, Mister Nick. I thought we might have to send another searching party for you, you been gone so long."

"What happened?" Nick said, his voice coming out as little more than a croak.

Silas held up his head and held a glass of water to his parched lips. "Don't you remember?"

"I remember . . . uh, I remember going out to the Suerte and looking for gold and, uh . . ." Nick shook his head and instantly regretted it. He put one hand up to his temple to stop the throbbing and felt a heavy bandage.

"Here now, Mister Nick, don't you mess with that. You were so dirty when Mister Jarrod brung you home, nobody knew you had a pretty bad gash down the back of your head until your mama got you cleaned up some. The doctor sewed it all up just fine, so you'd best leave it alone now. And don't you try to move that leg of yours either. You want it to heal proper."

Nick frowned but put his hand back down. "Jarrod brought me home? No, Jarrod won't be back for four days. He won't be back till Friday."

"Today's Wednesday, Mister Nick. It's Wednesday afternoon. Mister Jarrod come home dawn yesterday and then went to fetch you back out of that mine."

"_I'm going to get you out of here before I knock you into next week."_

Nick chuckled softly, remembering at least part of it now. The gold. The cave in. Jarrod. Jarrod had found him, and now Jarrod knew about the gold, too.

"He didn't go back to school?"

"No, sir. He's been sleeping about as long as you now. I'm sure he'll come to see you when he wakes up."

"Mother and Father?"

"They both been sitting with you off and on through the night and all this morning. Now your mama's sleeping, too. Mr. Barkley, he's out talking to Mr. McColl about ranch business, but he said he'd be back directly."

Nick thought for a minute, trying to put his missing days back into place. "Jarrod came home yesterday? At dawn?"

"He did that. I heard he rode all night from San Francisco to get here."

"But school—"

"I guess he had to leave a bit early from that," Silas said gently, "but he didn't mind. He wanted to get home in plenty of time for Christmas anyway."

"He came home to get me," Nick said, realizing how hard it must have been for Jarrod to leave when he was supposed to be taking his examinations. "And I ruined everything for him."

"From what I hear, Mister Nick, he didn't mind at all."

"Stupid school." Nick crossed his arms over his chest and then winced as his whole body reminded him that moving suddenly wasn't a good idea at this point. "If Jarrod would just stay home and run the ranch with me and Father, then he wouldn't have to worry about classes and examinations."

"But that's not what Mister Jarrod wants."

"It's what I want," Nick grumbled.

"But that's not what matters." Silas shook his head. "From what I can tell, the good Lord puts a piece of something into all of us when we're born, something that makes us who we are, and there's no use trying to change it. You want to raise cattle and horses and keep the land, and that's a fine thing, no doubt, but if everybody did the same, who you gonna sell all that stock and produce to? And while you're doing it, who gonna make your clothes and boots and saddles? Who gonna build the railroad and run the telegraph? Who gonna keep the stores and teach school? And all those folks who make clothes and leather goods, who build the railroads and the telegraph wires and tend stores and teach school, they don't want to heard cattle and break horses and grow crops. They none of them built that way, no more than you're built to do what they do. But I guess the Lord puts a different piece in each of us so that, together, everything moves along just the way it ought."

Nick's frown deepened.

"Your daddy, Mister Nick, he got big plans for a big world. Mister Jarrod, he wants to make that world right for folks who got nobody to speak for them. You love this place, this ranch right here, caring for the land and the animals, leading the men, that's what God put inside of you. But you can't take what's in somebody else and make it the same as yours."

"But Jarrod's my brother."

"Sure he is."

"I just wanted my brother to be here, at our place, so we could work together."

"He's here, Mister Nick, and I know he has as much love for this ranch as you do, but his kind is different. He wants to tend to it by seeing to all those kinds of business matters and contracts that keep it running. As much as you want a brother who'll ride 'longside you and herd cattle every day, that's not Mister Jarrod, and you can't make him be that, no more than he could make you want to sit inside and read law all day long."

Nick didn't have an answer for that. He'd never quite thought of it that way.

"I guess I cost him a whole semester's work," he said miserably.

"Mister Nick, I tell you he didn't mind. He said coming home was more important right then."

Nick looked away from the concerned dark eyes and didn't reply.

Silas patted the back of his hand, smiling encouragingly. "What if I fetch you something to eat? How about that?"

Nick swallowed hard. He was about as empty as he'd ever been. "Uh, yeah. You got a steak about three inches thick?"

"I do indeed."

Nick sighed with satisfaction. "Good."

"And you can have it as soon as the doctor comes back and says so. For now you can have some nice chicken broth and, if that goes down good, some oatmeal."

"Oatmeal? Aww, Silas—"

"That's the menu, Mister Nick, till I get told different. But there's one other thing you can have as much of as you want."

"Really?"

"Yes, sir, some good hot tea."

Nick pulled the covers over his head.

OOOOO

Jarrod licked his dry lips and opened his eyes the merest crack. He could tell by the way the shadows slanted that it was late in the afternoon. He must have been asleep two or three hours. He needed to find out how Nick was.

With a groan, he turned to his side and was met by a pair of round blue eyes.

"Are you awake now?"

"Audra, honey, what are you doing here?" He propped himself up on one elbow. "Where's Mother?"

"She's asleep. Father's out talking to Mr. Duke. Nick's asleep. Silas is looking after him. I got tired of playing by myself, and I didn't want to sleep, too."

Jarrod chuckled. "Well, you give me a few minutes to clean myself up and have something to eat, and we'll go check on Nick together. How would that be?"

Audra looked at him solemnly. "Nick still hasn't waked up yet."

Jarrod sat up and pushed a lock of golden hair behind her ear. "Well, it's only been a couple of hours yet. He'll wake up soon."

Audra shook her head. "You've both been sleeping since yesterday."

Jarrod blinked at her. "Yesterday?"

"Mother said you needed to. She said it was best if nobody bothered you, but I was getting scared. Jenny Beldon told me her daddy was asleep when they brought him home last summer, and he never did wake up until they buried him."

Jarrod winced. He didn't know Audra knew about that. He sat up and pulled her close to him. "Jenny's daddy was hurt, honey. He was in a stampede. But Nick's not that bad. Nick's going to be fine, all right?"

She nodded, but he could tell she didn't quite believe him.

He touched his lips to her forehead. "Haven't you gotten to see him at all since he came home?"

Audra shook her head. He knew Mother and Father were trying to keep her from being upset seeing Nick hurt the way he was, but not letting her see him at all had obviously made her imagine things were much worse than they were.

He struggled to his feet and noticed a tray sitting on his dresser. _Bless you, Silas_.

"Did you eat, honey?" he asked, taking the cover off the largest dish. The food was cold now, but Jarrod was too hungry to care. He stuffed down three pieces of bacon and grabbed a piece of toast. "Would you like part of this?"

Audra wrinkled her little nose.

"All right," he said once he'd choked it down with a gulp of cold coffee, "this'll do me for a start. I'll take you to see Nick right now, but only for a minute, agreed?"

Her face lit and she flung her arms around his middle. "Only a minute."

He took her hand and walked her to the door, shaking his head at his own reflection as he passed his mirror. He was still in the same filthy clothes he'd come home in, his chin darkened with two days' worth of stubble, his hair lank and grimy. Well, if Audra wasn't too fussy to have him accompany her to the next room, he guessed he could stand it, too. But pretty soon he'd have to get Silas started cooking some real food and fixing him a very hot bath.

He dropped down to one knee so he could have his eyes level with his little sister's. "Now Nick might still be asleep, so we have to be quiet."

Audra nodded.

"And for now, don't say anything to—" Jarrod leapt to his feet again. "Father."

Father looked at the two of them for a long minute. "I thought you were supposed to stay downstairs until your mother woke up."

Audra's eyes dropped to her little button shoes. "I just wanted to see if Nick was all right."

Jarrod put his arm around her. "She's been worried, Father. I thought if she could see—"

"I guess we've all been worried." Father cupped Jarrod's cheek in one hand. "About both of you."

Jarrod shrugged a little. "I'm all right."

"I know. And so's Nick. I never did tell you thank you, son. We'd never have found him if you hadn't come home when you did."

Jarrod swallowed down the sudden tightness in his throat. "Well, I just—"

Father's arms were suddenly around him, holding him tight, and Jarrod clung to him, surprised by the sudden, deep sobs that shook him.

"I was so afraid."

"You're all right, son," Father murmured against his temple, still holding him there. "I've got you, boy. I've got you. Shh, I've got you."

When he was finally steady again, Jarrod stepped back and looked down at his dirty socks. "I'm sorry, Father." He sniffled and wiped his grimy sleeve across his wet face. "I guess I'm still more tired than I thought."

Father lifted Jarrod's chin, and Jarrod could see there were tears in his eyes, too.

"I'm very proud of you, son," Father said at last, his voice as thick as Jarrod's had been, and then he managed a lopsided smile. "You go on and take your sister to see Nick."

Jarrod was almost startled to remember Audra was still clinging to his hand, but he nodded.

"Just for a minute now, missy," Father told her with a wink, but she looked a little too awed to do more than nod.

"I'll make sure she doesn't stay long," Jarrod said.

Father clasped his shoulder. "I'll go let your mother know you're awake."

**Author's Note: I was expecting this to be the last part, but the boys are evidently not through yet. Nick is complaining that he still hasn't gotten a chance to talk to Jarrod, so there will be more. Please let me know what you think. **


	4. Part Four

**PURE GOLD**

Disclaimer: Jarrod and Nick Barkley and all of the characters and situations in _The Big Valley _are the property of their copyright holders and are, sadly, not mine. I'm only borrowing them.

**PART FOUR**

Still holding Audra by the hand, Jarrod tapped lightly on Nick's door.

Silas answered at once. "Mister Jarrod, it's good to see you awake. Miss Audra, your mama said—"

"We're going to look in on Nick for just a minute, Silas, before she goes back downstairs."

Silas looked uneasy. "Mister Jarrod—"

"Jarrod!" Nick was sitting up in bed, the covers pulled up to his chin. "Tell Silas I have to have something more than broth and tea! I'm starving!"

"Doctor's orders, Mister Jarrod," Silas said firmly. "You ask your mama."

"Sorry, Brother Nick," Jarrod said, bringing Audra with him to the bedside. "Doctor's orders." He smiled broadly. "But for me, Silas, would you please cook me up the thickest steak you have with some sweet peas and potatoes."

Nick scowled at him.

"Oh," Jarrod added, "and if there's any kind of pie . . . ?"

"Apple pie, Mister Jarrod," Silas said with justifiable pride. "Made it just this morning, waiting for you to be ready to eat it."

"Jarrod," Nick whined.

Jarrod merely smiled at Silas. "Excellent. And if you'd draw me a hot bath, I'd be very grateful."

"Yes, sir," Silas said, "right away. And I'll put fresh sheets on your bed, so you won't get yourself dirty again getting back in them."

"Thank you. And don't worry, I'll stay here with Nick until Mother or Father comes back."

"I'll get your steak started and your bath water heating on the stove."

Chuckling to himself, Silas hurried out of the room.

Audra moved over to Nick's side. "You can have some of my pie, Nick. I won't mind."

He gave one of her long curls a tug. "At least somebody's on my side."

"I'm on your side, Nick. I was afraid you weren't ever going to wake up."

He gave her a fierce look. "Well, sure I did, squirt. You can see me, can't you?"

Her lower lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears.

"Now, don't start that," Nick said, his gruff voice suddenly tender. "I'm all right. Come on now." With one thumb, he wiped away the tear that rolled down her cheek. "Audra."

He slipped his arm around her and tried to lift her up beside him, but he couldn't quite do it. Jarrod gave her a boost and then sat on the edge of the bed so she was between the two of them.

"Now, you see there, honey? Brother Nick is his old growly self. That's got to mean he's all right, doesn't it?"

Audra giggled and then sniffled one last time. "I promised Father I wouldn't stay but just a minute, Nick, but if you want me to, I could bring you one my dolls to sit with you while you have to be in bed." Audra toyed with one of the buttons on his nightshirt. "They always make me feel better when I'm sick."

"One of your dolls!" Nick sputtered. "What would I do with—"

Jarrod gave him a look over their little sister's head, and Nick scowled at him. Then his expression softened as he looked at Audra again.

"I mean, uh, what would I do with myself if you didn't take such good care of me?"

Her eyes lit, and she hugged him around the neck. "I'll go get one for you."

"I think you'd better go on downstairs now, honey," Jarrod told her. "You can bring Nick a doll when you come see him next. When Mother says it's all right."

"Mother says it's time you let your brother rest."

They all turned to see Mother standing in the doorway, her usual immaculate self. She came at once to the bedside.

"Nick, darling, how are you feeling?"

"I'm all right, Mother."

He squirmed a little when she leaned down to kiss him.

"And Jarrod." She kissed him, too, only a little more cautiously. "If I had known you were going to sleep this long, I would have made you take a bath first." She touched his stubbled cheek. "And shave."

Jarrod winced. "Sorry, Mother. I was just getting to that."

She stroked the hair at the back of his neck. "I'll go ask Silas to bring you both something to eat."

"He's already getting it," Jarrod told her. "And heating me some bath water."

"Mother," Nick said, "can't you get Silas to make me a steak or something? I hurt my ankle, not my stomach."

Smiling serenely, she patted his cheek and led Audra out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Nick sighed. "I'm getting broth. I know."

"I'll see if I can talk her into letting you have steak in a little while."

Nick huffed.

Jarrod sat there on the side of the bed not quite knowing what to say first. He needed to figure out how to tell his brother about the gold not being gold without making him feel too bad. And they needed to talk about, well, about almost everything. Nick was lying there thinking hard and scowling again. Well, there was nothing to do but just start.

"Sorry," they both said at the same time.

Nick gave him a puzzled little grin. "What do you have to be sorry for, Jarrod? I'm the one who pulled down half a mine."

"I'm sorry because you wouldn't have done it if I'd taken time to go with you one of the times I've been home the past couple of years."

Nick shrugged. "You couldn't help it. You had that stupid— I mean, you had school to go to. It's not like I need a nursemaid or something. Father told us both we ought to keep clear of that mine, and I guess I should have listened." That light came into his eyes, the one that had been there when he'd told Jarrod about the gold he'd found. "But I guess it was worth it anyway, because I found the gold."

"Nick, that wasn't gold."

His face fell. "What?"

"It's just iron pyrite. Father looked at it, too. I'm sorry."

Nick laughed ruefully and turned his face to the side. "I, uh, guess that makes it even worse. I ruined your exams for nothing."

Jarrod clasped his shoulder, waiting until his brother looked at him again. "Not for nothing, Nick."

"But you're going to fail the whole term because of me."

"Maybe not. Father is going to write to he dean and see what we can do. Anyway, I couldn't do anything else but come home. Not when I knew you were in trouble."

"And I'm sorry . . . " Nick's voice broke and he scowled once more. "I'm sorry I've been trying to make you what I want instead of what you want. I just wanted us to be together and make this the greatest ranch ever."

"It is great, little brother, and we both can make it greater. Together. We just have different kinds of jobs to do, but there's nothing wrong with that, is there?" Jarrod looked into the sorrow and hurt in Nick's face, not wanting to say more but knowing he had to. "And sometimes our different jobs might take us different places, but that doesn't mean we won't always be brothers and better friends with each other than anybody else."

Tears welled into the hazel eyes.

Jarrod tightened his hold on Nick's shoulder. "You know there's a war going on. I haven't gone because Father didn't think it would last this long. He didn't want me to leave school. But I'll be twenty-one before long—"

"You just turned twenty!" Nick protested, twin tears sliding out of the corners of his eyes to be lost in his dark hair.

"I'm old enough to go. I ought to go."

Nick grasped his arm, holding it hard. "If you go, I'll go, too."

"Don't be ridiculous. You're too—"

"I'm not too young!"

"You couldn't do it, Nick. You couldn't do that to Mother and Father. If something happened to you—"

Nick managed another grin. "If something happened to me, you'd come get me."

His own eyes burning, Jarrod laughed softly and slid his hand from Nick's shoulder to the back of his neck. "They'd have to lock me up to keep me from it."

Nick looked up a the ceiling, trying to steady himself and not doing a very good job of it.

"Things change, Nick," Jarrod said gently. "They always do, and you can't stop them."

"Yeah," Nick choked out, "I know."

"But some things will never change. No matter what happens or where we are, we'll still be together." Jarrod tapped his little brother's chest. "Right there."

Nick clasped his hand over Jarrod's, pressing it against his heart. "Right there."

"And while you're running this ranch, I'll be happy knowing that it'll always be here for me to come home to and that, when I do come home, you'll be here, too." Jarrod grinned a little. "Gold mine or not."

Nick mopped his face with the sleeve of his nightshirt and looked at him archly. "Now, that's a valuable piece of property, and you know half that property is yours, right?"

"Right."

"Well, how'd you like to own the whole thing?"

"A valuable property like that, Brother Nick?" Jarrod asked, pretending astonishment. "But what would I have to do?"

"I'll give you all of my half, free and clear," Nick said, lowering his voice to a dramatic whisper, "for half of your steak when it comes."

"Free and clear, eh?"

Nick nodded. "One hundred percent yours. What do you say?"

"I think, Brother Nick," Jarrod said, shaking his hand, "we have a deal."

And Nick laughed.

THE END

**Author's Note: Ummm, I think this really is the end at last. I hope you liked it. Let me know what you think. Thanks, all of you reviewers, for giving me such a nice welcome to the fandom. **


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